


I'm proud of you

by DopePie



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John is there for him, Laszlo is vulnerable, Laszlo needs an hug, Lovers, SPOILERS FOR THE ALIENIST s01 ep09, Sadness, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, doubting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DopePie/pseuds/DopePie
Summary: What if it wasn't Sara who went to Laszlo's house to convince him to go outside, but John?What if John shared his own experience with him, and not her?Laszlo is weak, and John understands.I will definitely go down with this ship (in every sense).Also, I changed some of the things that happened, so it's not exactly the same as the episode....hope you all don't mind!





	I'm proud of you

Laszlo Kreisle was not a normal man.  
On the other hand, it was rare to find a normal person at that time.  
Laszlo had taken Mary's death badly, shutting himself inside his house and refusing to see anyone, even Sara.  
He had stopped caring about himself, at some point. What he wasn’t prepared for, though, was his stubborn friend, that he had known since they were kids, who was currently knocking rather insistently on the doctor’s front door.  
Laszlo sighed and frowned, trying to ignore the man’s desperate attempt to speak with him, closing his eyes and returning to his mourning self.

It didn’t last long though, because as soon as the doctor had thought he was safe from his persistent friend, the knocking came back along with John’s muffled voice from the outside.  
“Laszlo! I know you can hear me, open the door! We need your help….I need your help!” Laszlo’s eyes shot open and rolled up as he leaned against the back of his chair with a soft groan.  
He took a few seconds to himself before standing up, gritting his teeth as his sore leg complained because of the sudden movement.  
He walked to the door and opened it, finding John on the bottom steps, almost leaving.  
The doctor was about to close the door again, upset that his friend had given up so easily on him, before he turned around and John’s ocean blue eyes were on him, locking him in place.  
The illustrator smiled a bit and walked back up the steps and past Laszlo as the shorter man moved to the side to let him in, closing the door while his friend took his hat off and put it on the coat hanger.  
He turned his head to watch Laszlo, staring down at his feet.  
“How are you doing, my friend?” he asked softly, his raspy voice waking Laszlo up from his trance.  
He chuckled bitterly, walking towards the living room.  
“I am quite good John, thank you for asking. If you’re here to ask me again to join your investigation, you know the answer and furthermore, you know where the door is.” He gestured to the door before sitting on his chair and resumed his reading of some old documents, why the hell was he reading old documents?  
John snorted and looked at him.  
“I came by to check on you. You…haven’t left your house in a while.” he said, his voice still low and careful, as if he was scared that Laszlo would break if he spoke too loud.  
The doctor gave an annoyed huff and shook his head, staring at the papers below him.  
“What now, John, have you paid someone to keep an eye on me?”  
John took a step forward and Laszlo’s eyes shifted to the illustrator's feet.  
“Why, of course, my best friend disappears after losing someone he loves and I can’t even try to be there for him? Jesus Christ….” he muttered the last words and looked away from the shell that was once his friend, always ready for action and eager to discover and explore, now dull and uneasy in his own skin.   
John’s voice had grown in volume and Laszlo didn’t like it at all, his lip twitching upwards as he finally rose his eyes to look at the man standing there.  
“Maybe I don’t need you to worry. Maybe I don’t need you at all.” he spat, bitterly.  
Laszlo wanted to bite his tongue at the expression his friend made, one of betrayal and hurt like he had never seen on him.  
John finally got a real look of his friend's face, and he almost gasped: disheveled, dirty hair and irritated eyes (probably from crying, who knows), and a sense of general shabbiness that the real Laszlo would rather die, than show.  
“Well maybe if you shared with me I could help you properly. Like if you didn’t lie to me.” he said, defensively.  
Laszlo stood up, making John take a step back just by surprise and not because he truly felt threatened by his friend.  
“I never lied to you, John. I would never.” He said, and his eyes were stuck in John’s, like a stone hitting the water surface, making it shape into crests and waves.  
John gasped, and squinted at the doctor.  
“Never lied? What about your arm, then. Why did you lie about it?” He realized he was yelling but he didn’t care, all his pent-up anger from the past months was flowing freely now and nothing was stopping him.  
Laszlo’s expression mutated in a worried one, his mouth hung open slightly as if he wanted to speak, but John was quicker.  
He stepped forward, forcing Laszlo backwards.  
“Why lie about something like that, to your best friend?? I trusted you, always! But you can’t trust me with that? Why Laszlo?”  
The doctor was trying to find an answer but his friend’s words were impetuous, like a raging storm.  
“Why lie to the only person who truly ever loved you and that cares about you?”

“Because I’m ashamed!”  
He broke his silence, screaming, tears making his eyes itch as his heart was beating so fast it was the only thing he could hear.  
A heavy silence fell in the room, the house seemed to be listening to them as well as the creaks could not be heard anymore and the wind had stopped moving outside.  
John was taken aback, mouth open, eyes not daring to look up into Laszlo’s.  
He realized he might’ve gone too far, he might’ve lost his best friend, and that scared him more than the killer they were after.  
“Because- because I can barely look at myself in the mirror without a shirt on! Because….” he gasped for air, tears now flowing down his face as his good hand flew into the air.  
“Because it’s easier this way! Because….because….” he broke into sobs as John took a step forward, wrapping his arms around Laszlo’s waist.  
The doctor did try to struggle for a couple of second before melting into the other’s embrace, sobbing loudly and burying his face into John’s neck, as the other struggled to hold back his own tears as a painful knot formed in his throat and his heart ached.  
They just stayed there, John’s hand drawing reassuring circles on Laszlo’s back as he cried his stress, his anger, his feelings out against his friend’s shoulder.

John listened to the man's broken gasps for air and sobs, asking himself how on Earth had he dared to make such a perfect man cry.

When Laszlo had quieted down to sniffles, John spoke up.  
“I was seven the first time she hit me. She came home, smelling of alcohol and smoke, and I was supposed to be asleep.”  
He stopped, waiting for Laszlo to push him away and yell at him to leave forever, but nothing came.  
Just the doctor’s regular heartbeat against his own.  
So he continued.

“She yelled at me telling me how big of a disappointment I was, how useless I was to her and how much better she’d be without having to pay for me. I remember her staggering towards me and her sticky hand hit my cheek hard, pushing me to the ground.  
I’ll never forget her face, her disgusting grin and putrid breath….”  
Laszlo was calm now, listening closely as John spoke.  
“I remember going into my room and crying all night. I believed her. I even….I even thought about taking my own life.” He finished off, barely whispering, feeling as vulnerable as a newborn child.  
At those words, he felt Laszlo’s head rose from his shoulder and he looked up, puffy red eyes and a trembling lower lip, that John found unbearably cute.

“I never knew that about you, John” he said softly, pushing away as gently as one could be.  
He turned around, looking down, and swallowed nervously.  
“My father had two sides: one loving, and the other brutal, and the two often coexisted. When I was nine years old, he was putting me to bed, playing a "game of tug of war”. Despite we were laughing and playing, at some point he pulled my arm behind my back, fracturing the bones so severely that it arm never fully recovered….” he stopped, his voice trembling.  
John let the other continue.  
“I often asked myself if my father was drunk or if I said something that offended him to trigger such violence….”

John moved closer and shook his head .  
“It was not your fault, Laszlo.”

The doctor turned around and looked at his friend.  
“And neither was it yours, John.”

They stared at each other for a while before John broke the silence, clearing his throat.  
“Thanks for sharing with me, Laszlo. I understand it wasn’t easy, but I’m glad you did tell me.” I’m so proud of you.

Laszlo smiled a bit, nodding.  
“You too.” I’m proud of you, too.

Shortly after, both men left the house, heading for the new headquarters Sara had found, with a new sense of friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh well, I tried
> 
> English is not my main language so first, excuse any grammar mistakes (I don't have a beta reader) and second, I try to use noble terms but- meh...
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think of this fic, leave a like if you enjoyed it and a comment, if you want to let me know what you would've added/done better!!!
> 
> Buh-bye :3


End file.
